


Eyes On You

by WhyDoIWrite



Series: Sunshine and Whiskey [4]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluffy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Waffle House, Wedding szn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoIWrite/pseuds/WhyDoIWrite
Summary: "The moon, Kelley remembers. Well not the moon itself. She couldn’t say if it actually was a supermoon or not. But she remembers the way it illuminated the cross tattoo on the back of Sonny’s neck, in the little sliver of space between the car door and the headrest. She remembers how badly she wanted to reach out and touch it. To trace it. To press her lips to it. She remembers how hard it was to stop herself."
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett
Series: Sunshine and Whiskey [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881538
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	Eyes On You

_No matter where we go  
No matter what we do  
If you're there, girl, I've got my eyes on you  
  
Halfway around the world  
Or the local corner booth  
Yeah, you guessed it, girl  
You know I got my eyes on you  
We could be on any street  
Any party, any room  
I'll be there all night with my eyes on you_

_Don't matter where we've been  
No, there ain't no better view  
Than you in my arms with my eyes on you_

**Miss Kelley** : Breakfast tomorrow?

 **Sonny** : Waffle House?

 **Miss Kelley** : NO

 **Sonny** : then no

 **Miss Kelley** : Then we appear to be at an impasse.

 **Sonny** : Why do you talk like this?

 **Miss Kelley** : … … …

 **Sonny** : Don’t Ivy League-splain me. I know what an impasse is.

 **Miss Kelley** : Stanford isn’t Ivy League

 **Sonny** : I know that too. 'twas a joke.  
Why do you treat me like this?  
You don’t treat Becky like this.  
We graduated from the same school.  
Means I’m just as smart.

 **Miss Kelley** : Stop whining. I’ll break my lifestyle.  
But only for you.  
And just this once.

 **Sonny** : Thank God! Crisis averted.  
Imagine you’d’ve been sad if you couldn’t have   
breakfast with me.

 **Miss Kelley** : You know that’s not a word, right?  
This is why I don’t treat you like Becky.

But the picking on Sonny is really just Kelley’s attempt to cover the fact that she hates that Sonnett is absolutely right; she would have been extremely disappointed if she didn’t get to have breakfast with her at least once or twice while she was home for Christmas.

*****

“Where is she?” Sonnett asks, sliding into the worn vinyl booth across from Kelley. Immediately, her eyes are drawn down to Kelley’s hand, wrapped around her coffee mug, nails tapping incessantly against the ceramic. The little clinking sound is loud despite the din of the restaurant, but maybe that’s because it's amplified by the way Kelley’s jaw is set. Kelley insisted on going to the Waffle House in Marietta, the one near where Sonnett’s staying with her parents. It made no sense to Sonnett really, not when Kelley’s an hour south and the Waffle House near Sonnett’s apartment in Atlanta is basically equidistant for them. But Kelley pushed – she always pushes – and now Sonnett misinterprets Kelley’s tic as annoyance. It was ridiculous for her to drive this far. It’s even more ridiculous that she beat Sonnett here. And if Sonnett is judging by her jittery movements, Kelley may have been here long enough to already be on her second cup of coffee.

It shocks Kelley that Sonnett is so bold with the question, especially since she didn’t get a “hi,” or a hug first. But worse, Kelley doesn’t know how to answer it. How do you explain to someone who is totally unaware that they unwittingly participated in the demise of your relationship?

It was a slow failure, not like Kelley’s typical intense breakups, and for that she’s grateful. Despite the drawn out nature of it, it wasn’t slow _and_ painful, and for that, Kelley’s also grateful, for her obliviousness though most of it, anyway.

There was Kelley’s hand gently falling along Sonnett’s spine and stopping on the small of her back that a TV camera caught in Texas during CONCACAF. That led to a ridiculous number of arguments.

But things got better for the two of them when the pandemic hit. Kelley hates admitting that, but it allowed them to spend much needed time alone together. A lot of good, quality time.

Things were fine until Orlando was unceremoniously removed from the Challenge Cup. Kelley’s ranting and obsession with Sonnett’s feeling were compounded by the fact that she was going to be gone for six weeks.

But Kelley made it up to her girlfriend – ex-girlfriend – when she returned to DC, insisting on a trade, and when that fell through, refusing to play in the fall series.

They probably could have gone on like that indefinitely, but Kelley couldn’t stop watching Sonnett play in Sweden. It led to a lot of canceled bike rides and brunches with friends on weekends, so when Kam started to get really peeved, Kelley went ahead and paid for the legal stream so she could watch Sonny on demand. It was a good idea. Laughing at Sonnett’s yellow card on repeat alone in the living room at 1:30 in the morning was not. Kelley kinda understood why Kam wasn’t exceptionally pleased to wake up to an empty bed, only to find her girlfriend watching another girl she shared a strange connection with on a screen in the middle of the night.

Kelley should have known better than to watch the game that had the potential to give Sonnett her Damallsvenskan crown when Kam was due home. She didn’t know better. Kam walked in to find tears streaming down Kelley’s face because she was so happy for Sonnett, so proud of that kid from small-town Georgia who had earned herself another title.

See, Kam had put up with a lot through the years, with this slow build that Kelley didn’t even catch onto until it was too late. She put up with Kelley showering Sonnett with a heck of a lot of attention, both in camp, and when they were back in Georgia. She put up with the two of them having breakfast in bed watching PL games, with Kelley inviting her over and cooking for her, and with Kelley flying out to Portland to help her pack after the trade. She put up with knowing they had inside jokes and she put up with their touchiness, and in the end, those tears were the straw that broke the camel’s back. When Kelley tried to explain that she was just proud, that she felt like a mentor to Sonnett, Kam looked at her in utter disbelief. “Where were the happy tears when I got promoted to Senior VP of Marketing, Kell? I’ll tell you where. Nowhere. Because there were none. Because you care about her more than you care about me! You always have. I'm not going to be second best anymore.” Kelley thought that statement was unfair, and technically, untrue. She cared about them equally, just maybe differently.

It wasn’t until she moved out that she realized the most painful part was still ahead – what to do with all of those unresolved feelings she had towards her teammate. Her close friend. Her competition. Technically.

Or maybe Kelley’s tapping is just nerves, Sonnett decides, because she avoids the question long enough that the waitress brings their plates out, saving her.

“I ordered for us. I hope that’s ok. It’s not like I don’t know what you get. You always get the same thing.”

“It’s perfect, Kell,” Sonnett assures her. “I tried to be on time. Sorry.”

Kelley waves her off. “You gotta share that waffle though.”

Sonnett wraps her arms possessively around the plate in between them. “Girl! Get ya own!” she says with a wink.

Kelley can’t help but laugh at that. This is the Sonnett she has missed so much over the past eight months. The big grin and the bigger laugh. The crinkles around her sparkly eyes. Things Kelley never knew she needed in her life until they were gone. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? Missed you, too,” Sonnett says awkwardly.

“You look good, Son. Happy. Are you glad you went?”

Sonnett nods vigorously and starts rambling about all things Sweden – fika, the snow, the beauty of the old buildings and the cobblestone streets – and as she talks, her smile spreads. The one-sided conversation turns to her teammates, coaches, the different style of play, and Kelley finds herself unable to follow along. It’s not that she’s bored, it’s not that she doesn’t care. In fact, it’s quite the opposite; she cares about everything Sonnett has to say, even the unimportant details. But there’s something about Sonny, this remarkable mixture of home that draws her in and electricity that fuzzies up her brain so much she doesn’t really have the capacity to process words.

“I think the only thing I feel like I missed not staying in Orlando was being close to Florida beaches. I was looking forward to being able to take trips to the beach. You know, like a _real_ beach. White sand. Clear water. Warm. But I guess they were closed most of the time I was gone,” Sonnett shrugs.

“And me,” Kelley teases her. “You missed me, for sure. Right?”

“Well, yeah. I missed getting to see you and Linds and Rose and Sammy," Sonnett admits between bites. "You remember when you made me and Sammy drive for hours to the beach with you and then we didn’t even get out of the car?”

Kelley nods along as Sonnett starts blabbering about that day - the conversation and the stop at the service station for snacks that Dawn would have killed them for. The music blaring through the speakers, their stupid attempt to play Story Time. But the truth is, Kelley doesn’t remember any of that. What she remembers is how the whole way, she was beating herself up for not waiting thirty seconds longer to invite Sonnett. If she had, Sam would have been far enough from the table that she wouldn’t have heard, and Sonnett probably wouldn’t have tried to talk her into tagging along. Kelley doesn’t know what she was thinking inviting Sonnett to go on a drive with her anyway – they were both in relationships – it just seemed like something she needed to do. In retrospect, maybe it was one of those moments of daydreaming that should have stayed inside Kelley’s head.

“Man, that may have been the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Sonnett continues. “I’ve seen plenty and there’s never been anything like it.”

It strikes Kelley as odd that she remembers nothing about this fiery sky that faded into a purplish-black like a bruise that Sonnett is describing in such vivid detail right now. How Kelley could have possibly missed the most magical sunset ever is beyond her. “We should catch another one sometime,” she suggests.

“Yeah, but Georgia sunsets just aren’t the same. They’re not. I’ve seen hundreds of them prolly. This was one _different_.”

Very different, Kelley thinks, because she loves sunsets - she'd never miss a good one - but when she looks back on that time in the car, all she sees is Sonnett staring out the window while she stared at the back of Sonnett’s head. She remembers the way she could tell that Sonnett’s mouth was agape, just from a glimpse at the way her jaw was no longer set. She remembers that messy, perfect bun, and the way Sonnett rubbed her palms on her leggings in anticipation, like she wasn’t quite certain the sky would actually ever fade to black. She remembers the overwhelming silence, with her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and almost forgetting that Sam was in the backseat.

“Member how mad Panic Petunia was when you told her she had to drive back?” Sonnett continues. “Because you were ‘too tired’ to, old lady?” Sonnett nudges Kelley’s calf under the table and Kelley can’t even find it in herself to be bothered by the obvious dig at her age. "She was hunched over the steering wheel and she kept complaining about her sweaty palms and she told you she’d never forgive you if she ran over a bunny. Oh my god, Kell, she was about to cry,” Sonnett shakes her head at the memory. “I tuned her out eventually. Had to. She was driving me insane. I can’t believe you didn’t lose it on her.”

Kelley didn’t lose it because she was staring at Sonnett the whole way home. At that damn bun again when she’d press her head into the window, craning her neck so she could see the moon. At her face is the rearview mirror when she’d sit up straight again.

“Dude, that moon was fantastic too. So big. What’s that called again when it looks like that?”

“A supermoon,” Kelley supplies with a chuckle.

“Yeah, that. So good. So bright. It was like if I had rolled the window down, I coulda touched it. Except Sam yelled at me when I rolled the window down. But man, that whole evening was great.”

The moon, Kelley remembers. Well not the moon itself. She couldn’t say if it actually was a supermoon or not. But she remembers the way it illuminated the cross tattoo on the back of Sonny’s neck, in the little sliver of space between the car door and the headrest. She remembers how badly she wanted to reach out and touch it. To trace it. To press her lips to it. She remembers how hard it was to stop herself. And to stop herself from squeezing her hand between the door and the seat to find Sonnett’s fingers in the front.

“I’m talking too much, huh?” Sonnett asks, taking a long sip from her coffee. When she sets the mug down, there’s an almost sheepish look on her face that Kelley doesn’t get. They’ve always been ok together. Well maybe not always, but for so long, Kelley can’t remember an uncomfortable time between them, not since Sonnett realized that Kelley adored her enough that she could basically get away with murder.

She hated how Alex teased her for that, but she didn’t give much credence to the words for a long time.

“No,” Kelley reaches across the table and squeezes Sonnett’s hand. “No,” she repeats softly, pulling her hand back before she starts running her thumb over the back of that hand. “I like listening to you.” Maybe it’s her zest for life, her enthusiasm, but she’s always thought that Sonnett is one of the best storytellers she’s ever run across. It just seems strange now to listen to stories that she was a part of that she feels like she’s hearing for the first time. Like they weren’t even in the same space.

The eat in silence for awhile, but silence makes Sonnett nervous, and before long, she’s going again, this time about Tokyo. “Do you think they’ll give us another send off in Times Square like they did for the Olympics?” she asks hopefully. “Or prolly not because it’s a whole Team USA thing this time?”

“I don’t know,” Kelley answers.

“That was so fun. I’d never been to Times Square before. All the lights and the…”

Sonnett’s voice fades in Kelley’s mind. As she talks, Kelley realizes that her memories of that night surround Sonnett, even when she couldn’t see her. Sonnett trying to sing along with Sam to Truth Hurts. That line – _you’re ‘posed to hold me down_ – still rings in her ears. And maybe it’s because Sonnett was literally screaming it in her ears, but maybe it’s more. That whole night, when Sonnett was taking in the lights and sounds of New York City from the top of the double decker bus and from the stage set up just for them, Kelley was taking in Sonnett.

And that’s the thing. When Kelley runs through her rolodex of memories over the last few years, those that involve Sonnett seem to be full of gaps for her. All of her memories of their best times are of seeing the way Sonnett was experiencing them.

Kelley doesn’t remember the Eiffel Tower sparkling, which was fine really, because she’d seen it before. But Sonnett’s eyes sparkling as she saw it twinkle for the first time, _that's_ burned into her brain. The way it took her breath away, and the way that took Kelley’s breath away, feels like it happened yesterday.

She doesn’t remember the after-parties, the boat, the parade, the ESPY’s. And sure, people could say it was because she was intoxicated for days on end, except she remembers every outfit Sonnett wore. She remembers her stupid, very not funny joke pretending to be Leo in Titanic as they were taken out to the yacht, and how she was genuinely terrified that Sonnett would fall overboard. Terrified enough that she pulled Sonnett back down, causing the younger woman to stumble into her lap as they hit the wake left by the boat in front of them. So she remembers. She remembers all of the details that matter. And she remembers the quiet moments after, too. Coming down from that high. Trying to adjust back into their normal lives. Spending hours lying in bed in the dark in the middle of the night just talking on the phone. Listening to Sonnett's breathing slow as she drifted off to sleep.

“It’s always been you.” The words tumble out of Kelley’s mouth as they enter her brain, before she can filter them or stop them, and judging by the way Sonnett’s eyes snap up from her plate and the way her mouth hangs open, Kelley realizes she probably interrupted her.

“What?” Sonnett freezes, fork in midair, suspended there like Kelley’s words hang in the air.

Kelley watches the syrup slowly drip from the piece of waffle onto Sonnett’s plate. Suddenly, the thought of repeating those words again is too much. She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know what she was thinking. She wasn't thinking. 

Sonnett sets the fork back on her plate, giving Kelley her full attention. Her voice is soft when she finally speaks again. “What’d you say, Kell?”

It’s reassuring enough for Kelley to find some words, even if they’re not the same words. “I- Alex used to make fun of me. She kept saying I wanted to sleep with you…” Sonnett’s face makes it clear she’s not completely grasping what Kelley’s getting at. She’s so confused she hardly has the wherewithal to be embarrassed by that revelation. “I told her she was crazy, that that was so dumb. That I knew how to be friends with people. That I was welcomed into the team and I just wanted to make sure you were, too. But then Kam… she said I was in love with you, and- and I told her she was crazy, but…” Kelley doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

“I don’t really care much about what anyone else has to say about what you are or what you want. What are _you_ trying to say, Kell?”

“They weren’t wrong. It’s always been you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve _never_ been able to stop thinking about you, even when I’ve tried. I don’t want to try anymore.” Sonnett just blinks at her as the words settle in. And Kelley doesn’t know how to do anything halfway, so she continues. “I don’t want to fight what I feel for you anymore, Son. Since I’ve met you, you’ve just made everything better somehow. You make the world better, you make me better. There’s just no one else like you.” Kelley lets out a big sigh because Sonnett still hasn’t said anything else, and in her head, she kind of thought that at some point, Sonnett would jump in. She turns to look out the window where life seems to be passing by as normal. The sidewalks bustling with shoppers running out of time before Christmas Eve. The bright blue Georgia sky that belies the cold temperature. But then she feels rough fingertips on the back of her hand, barely grazing her knuckles. She turns away from the window to see grey eyes staring back at her.

“Why are you just now realizing this?” Kelley furrows her brow. “I mean, you knew I had a crush on you. You had to have known.”

“You were just a kid then…”

“And what am I now?”

“You’re the eyes I want to see the world through. You’re the reason I’ve missed countless moments – in my career, in my life – over the past five years, and I don’t even care. You’re the first person I look to when something good happens because I’d rather see your joy than anyone else's even mine. You’re not a kid anymore. You’re the woman I can’t take my eyes off of. You’re one of my best friends. I want you to be more. Maybe I just- maybe it was always an excuse.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because how is this supposed to work? We’re teammates. We don’t live in the same city most of the year. We play the same position. We’re not exactly Ash and Ali.”

“That sounds like more excuses." Sonnett studies Kelley for a moment longer, a moment that feels like it's never going to end to Kelley, her mouth still open, on the verge of speaking. "You plan that whole speech?”

“What?” The question knocks Kelley off-kilter. “No, why? It just- it came out.”

“It was pretty good.”

“I didn’t even realize any of it til you got here. Til you started talking about all these moments we shared and I don’t even remember any of the details that you do, because all I remember is what you looked like. What you said. What you were doing. In this sea of memories I’m supposed to have, you’re all I remember.”

Sonnett flips Kelley’s hand over and plays with her fingers. Slowly, she traces the lines on Kelley’s palm. It’s the most unfrenzied Kelley thinks she’s ever seen her. The most unhurried. The most reserved. She can’t take her eyes off Sonnett’s face, waiting for her to say something else. Or to look up so she can read those eyes. And finally – finally – she takes Kelley’s hand in hers, interlacing their fingers. “You wanna get outta here? Go for a walk? See if we think this might could work?”

* * *

“Look at her, Kell.” Emily leans back against Kelley. It’s the most contact she’s had with Kelley all night. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is,” Kelley agrees, realizing it might be the first time she’s truly looked at Emma since the reception began. “But you’re the most beautiful woman here,” she adds sincerely, sliding her hand tentatively across Emily's waist.

Emily thinks she falls even more in love with Kelley in that moment. It’s Kelley’s ability to, on a night that is all about her sister, find a way to make her feel like she is the most important and loved person in the world. “You mean it?” she asks, happy that she’s not facing Kelley and can hide her blush.

“Course I mean it, love.” Kelley guides Emily around by the hip. “Dance with me? Please?”

“Kell,” Emily starts, and her voice fades as she looks at the circle of people surrounding the dance floor. “I don’t think this is the place…” It’s a Black-Tie wedding. A true Southern affair in the heart of Charleston, and right now, the prospect of two women dancing in front of all of the twins’ relatives and Emma’s friends is just a little much for her. 

“Your sister loves you, Em.” Kelley reaches up to wrap her arms around her girlfriend's neck. “I don’t think she minds if we dance at her wedding.”

They move together to the music, off to the side for awhile. “You think we can have all this?” Emily asks shyly and into Kelley’s hair, like she’s not completely convinced that she wants Kelley to hear her. Kelley picks her head up off of Emily’s chest so she can look at her, but Emily pulls her right back in. “Someday, I mean. When you’re ready.”

Kelley almost scoffs at that. _When she’s ready_. As if she hasn’t been ready all along. “You want to marry me, Emily Sonnett?”

She doesn’t get an answer, but she feels Emily nod against her cheek. “We can’t live in Peachtree City though,” she says as the song ends.

“Why’s that?”

“Can’t raise children there. Your dumbfuck county voted for Trump in 2020. Mine didn’t.”

“Kids, huh?”

“Yessum,” Sonnett tries to hide her grin.

“Hmm.”

“When you’re ready, of course."

“When _I’m_ ready?” Kelley raises an eyebrow.

“Yessum.”

“How is it possible that you become more Southern when we spend a week in South Carolina?”

“Aah don’t think it’s possible to become more Southern. Just lac ya caint become more gay,” Emily exaggerates for full effect.

“Oh, dahling,” Kelley says, feigning an accent to mimic the younger woman, “both are ver-reh possible. Tell me that meetin’ me at camp wadn’t your gay awakenin’.”

“Where _does_ this confidence come from, Miss Kelley?”

“You wanna get outta here?” Kelley asks.

“Ditch my sister’s reception?”

“Just for a little bit. Nothing’s gonna happen for a while. I was thinking maybe a walk around this place. See if we think we might could make this work.”

“A walk or a _walk_?” Emily winks.

“A walk, you fool.”

They leave the dance floor hand in hand, head into the foyer and out the grand double doors of the antebellum home. Crossing the lawn, Emily stops, leaning up against a live oak tree that must be at least two or three hundred years old. Beneath the swaying Spanish moss that gives them the magical illusion of privacy, Kelley takes Emily’s hands in hers and steps into her space. “We can have this,” she says softly. She feels Emily’s arm tighten around her shoulders and her body relax at the same time. If that isn’t the perfect way to sum up the Emily Sonnett that only she gets to know – peaceful and peace-giving – Kelley doesn’t know what is. “All of it. We can have anything you want.” And she means it. Because she could look at this woman every single day for the rest of her life and never get tired of that face. She would give Emily anything she asked for. “Em?” Emily hums into her hair. “I’m ready. For any of it. For all of it. For whatever life has in store for us. I’ve been ready, baby.”


End file.
